


The Ones That Remain

by bantiarna



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-23 01:02:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30047556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bantiarna/pseuds/bantiarna
Summary: Oryou grieves. Izou does his best. An alternate universe where Izou survived.
Relationships: Oryou-san/Sakamoto Ryouma | Rider
Kudos: 8





	The Ones That Remain

A salty breeze ruffled a young man’s matted hair as he clambered over the rocky dunes. The cool morning air came out in small puffs as he paused to catch his breath. He pulled his scarf up over his nose and squinted out over the horizon, scanning the beach for that familiar shape.

The beach before him was completely empty as the dull gray water lapped at the sand’s edge. He growled as he craned his neck to see farther out into the water. Where could have this woman gone?

He finally spotted her. A tall woman stood waist deep in the ocean, her dark, floor-length hair floating gently behind her in the lapping waves.

“Oi!” He scrambled down, nearly slipping on the slick rocks.

The young woman made no indication she heard him as she continued to trudge deeper into the ocean depths.

“What are ya doin?!” The man shouted as he pried off his worn shoes. He charged into the ocean after her, letting out a small gasp as icy water met his bare feet. He pushed against the currents as he worked to close the gap between him and the young woman.

“Oryou-san!” He lunged forward, nearly falling headfirst into the water as he grabbed her wrist.

The woman, Oyrou-san, stopped at the young man’s touch. In a slow, deliberate motion, she turned her head towards him and her ruby eyes met his amber. Her face was slightly puffed and the rims of her eyes were reddened from tears. Locked in her grip of her other hand was Ryoma’s black haori. She seemed to stare right through him.

Izou stood, panting, as his grip on her wrist tightened. He pulled his scarf off and, as best he could with one hand, wrapped it around Oryou’s exposed face.

“Let’s getcha home.”

Oryou blinked. “Home?”

She stared behind Izou, at the small rooftops that poked over the edges of the dunes, at the smoke that rose to the sky as people began to warm their houses and prepare for the morning. She shifted her gaze back to Izou.

“Oyrou-san has no home.”

Izou frowned. “Then somewhere warm.”

* * *

Oryou curled up in a corner of a small room Izou had rented with the little money he had left. She stared at the crumpled haori in her hands, her thumbs gently rubbing circles in the cloth. She brought it to her face and breathed deeply. His scent still lingered on the fabric. She felt a lump start to develop in her throat as she imagined his smiling face. She closed her eyes and buried her face deeper into the haori.

_“Oryou-san?”_

_Ryoma_. Oyrou sat up quickly, as if being woken from a dream. She expected to see that familiar face but was instead met with the scratchy, worn face of Izou. She frowned.

Izou held a small tray with tea. He placed it beside her. “This should warm ya up.”

Oryou watched him carefully as he moved to the other side of the room and took a seat by the screen door. He pulled his sheathed katana from his hip and placed it upright beside him, using it as a support to sit upright.

Oryou reached for a cup of tea and stared at her reflection in the dark liquid.

“Are you going to drink any?” Izou asked.

Oryou placed the cup on the floor and curled up around the haori. Her red eyes locked on the entrance of the room.

Izou sighed. “Ya can go to sleep if yer not gonna drink. I’ll keep an eye on the door.”

Oryou’s eyes flicked over to Izou, pupils narrowing. “Why are you here?”

“To keep an eye on you.”

Oryou frowned at that answer. “Oryou-san doesn’t need a babysitter.”

“Yer little outburst says otherwise.”

Oryou shot up, her ruby eyes glowing. Her hair seemed to float around her to match her growing intensity. She pointed at him, the tips of her fingers growing into sharpened claws. “Go back to the ditch you crawled out of, slug, and leave Oryou-san alone.”

“And where are ya going to go if I do that?”

Oryou blinked, taken aback by the tiredness that weighed down Izou’s words. She lowered her hand, fully taking in the Izou that was before her. Heavy bags formed under his eyes, his usual hair tied back in a messy ponytail hung loose around his shoulders, and he slouched forward with the only thing seeming to keep him upright was the sheathed katana he gripped to use as a support.

This man wasn’t going to bicker with her, nor shoot back any sly remarks that they have grown so accustomed to. Not now. Oryou curled back up, pulling the haori closer to her.

“Do you think a weakling like you could stop Oryou-san?”

“I already did.”

“What if Oryou-san did it again?”

“Then I’ll do the same.”

Oryou gripped Ryoma’s haori tighter. “Why?”

“Because he wouldn’t want that.”

Oryou sat up again, her piercing red eyes focused on Izou. “And how do you know what _he_ would want?”

“Because he loved ya.” Izou’s eyes held an emotion that Oryou couldn’t discern. “And people ya love, ya don’t want to see ‘em hurt, right?”

Oryou felt the lump form in her throat again. Her chest ached despite feeling empty. “Oryou’s hurting _now_. Ryoma—” Her voice cracked at speaking his name. She gripped her chest as though to try to alleviate the emptiness that filled her. Izou watched with a patience she has never seen as she composed herself to continue. “Ryoma would want Oryou-san to—”

“No.”

“Oryou-san wants this pain gone.”

“This _pain_ is the weight of yer love.” Izou’s grip tightened on his sheathed katana. He looked down at his feet, breaking his gaze with her. “I lost someone too once. I know what yer feelin—”

“You do _not_ ,” Oryou hissed.

“Maybe it’s not the same, but it’s not much different either,” he snapped. “This pain will be with you forever. That longin’ to see ‘em again, to laugh with ‘em again, to go back to things before; that doesn’t go away. It won’t ever. That’s the weight ya carry with ya. That’s how ya know how important they were to ya. And tryin’ to make that go away is an insult to ‘em; to everything they’ve done.”

Oryou-san growled. “Big talk for the sake-obsessed slug.”

“At least I’m not tryin’ to drown.”

“You don’t need an ocean to drown.”

Izou opened his mouth to spat something back, but instead a chuckle escaped him. He ran a hand through his hair as his chuckle evolved into full-blown laughter. Oryou watched with an eyebrow raised.

“I guess yer right,” Izou finally murmured as his laughter subsided. “You and I aren’t so different after all.”

“So you’ll leave Oryou-san alone then?”

Izou chuckled. “I’m not one to reserve judgement for how ya cope, but I know Ryoma wouldn’t let me live it down if anything happened to ya. So yer stuck with me, until only one of us is here.”

* * *

“Ryoma!”

The shout echoed off of the clean Chaldea walls as the tall man turned to the sound of his name. A smile broke across his face as Oryou floated over to him, her long hair messy from waking up from her deep sleep.

“Ryoma shouldn’t leave without Oryou-san.”

“Ah, but I wanted to surprise you with breakfast,” Ryoma stated. “I hear this morning offers some foods from ancient Peru.”

“Oryou-san doesn’t need food.”

“Maybe not, but it’s fun to try new things, right?”

Oryou-san mulled over that statement. “Maybe. But Ryoma should have woken Oryou.”

Ryoma laughed. “You looked so content; I couldn’t bring myself to wake you.”

Oryou drifted closer, resting her hands on his shoulders and her chin on the top of his head. “Oryou-san is much more content when she is awake with Ryoma. So when Ryoma is awake, he should wake Oryou-san.”

Ryoma gripped one of her hands, gently stroking his thumb against the back of it. “Are you sure about that?” he chuckled as the memory of the time he tried to wake her from her slumber drifted to him. The distinct groans of “Oryou-san needs her beauty rest” and “Why does Ryoma insist on waking so early?” filled his head.

Oryou-san nodded, as though she completely wiped that memory from her mind. “Oryou-san is sure.”

“Well, if you’re sure.”

“RYOMA!”

Ryoma felt Oryou’s nails dig into his shoulders at the sound of that yell. The pair turned around to see Izou sprinting down the corridor, ready to unsheathe his katana.

“So, ya finally ready for that duel?”

Oryou drifted away from Ryoma, taking a boxing stance. “So the slug wants to take his chances?”

“Step out of this, snake-woman!”

“Now, now, we shouldn’t be so loud this early in the morning.” Ryoma stepped between the pair, waving his hand as if to try to dissipate the tension. “Izou-san, I’d be more than happy to spar in the training room after breakfast. Why don’t you join us?”

“Breakfast?” Izou blinked. “Like I’d sit down to eat with ya!”

“It’s been awhile; I think it’d be nice.”

“Oi, Ryoma’s inviting you to breakfast. You better accept.” Oyrou hovered around Ryoma’s shoulders again, watching Izou as she rested her chin back on Ryoma’s head.

Izou scoffed, relaxing his grip on his katana. Ryoma beamed. He craned his head to look up at Oryou.

“Oryou-san, why don’t you go grab us a table at the cafeteria? Your favorite spot?”

Oryou’s eyes narrowed at Izou. “Don’t try anything while Oryou-san is away. You’ll regret it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Izou waved his hand dismissively.

Oryou drifted down the hall, giving Ryoma’s shoulders a small squeeze before she departed. Ryoma watched her disappear from view before turning to Izou.

“Thank you, Izou-san.”

Izou narrowed his eyes. “For what?”

“For staying with her.” Ryoma’s eyes flicked down to the floor as he scuffed the tiles with his shoes. “Since becoming a servant, she and I share memories. You helped. So thank you.”

Izou frowned. “Helped? I couldn’t stop her.”

Izou’s words triggered Oryou’s memory flooding back to Ryoma. The weight of the water as it tugged at her kimono once again. Izou’s shouts as he charged into the ocean once more after her. But despite his best efforts, he couldn’t close the gap, not like before. And so she sank and sank and sank; Izou’s cries muffled by the ocean waves that tumbled above her. Until she was met with nothing but deafening silence and the emptiness in her being filled by cold water.

“So why are ya thanking me?”

Izou’s voice brought Ryoma back to the present. He smiled. “She wasn’t alone. Thanks to you. Out of everything, I didn’t want her to be alone.” Ryoma pressed a hand to his chest. “I know what it means to leave everything. Oryou didn’t get a choice in that. But she had you. Even if it was for a moment.” He paused, locking eyes with Izou again. Izou averted his gaze, pulling his scarf up over his nose.

“I’m sorry, Izou-san. For any grief I—"

Izou scoffed, trudging past him. “Just don’t go dying again.”

Ryoma smiled as he walked after him. “I’ll do my best not to.”

Izou scratched at his head. “What’s on the menu for today?”

“Foods from Peru.”

Izou’s eyebrows furrowed. “What the hell is a ‘Peru’?”

Ryoma couldn't help but laugh at Izou's question. Izou bristled.

"Are you mocking me?!"

"No, no," Ryoma chuckled, waving his hand to dismiss Izou concerns. "The question caught me off-guard is all."

Izou rolled his eyes. "That's all? Ya laugh at the strangest things."

"I suppose," Ryoma agreed as he wiped a tear from his eye. "Laughing is quite nice, isn't it?"

"S'alright." Izou tugged his scarf up to his nose. "Sounds nice."

"It does."

Ryoma beamed at Izou. Izou tugged at his scarf once more. He trudged down the hall. "Are we eating breakfast or not?!"

Ryoma laughed again as he followed after him.


End file.
